


joyriding

by Visardist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, post-TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1768885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Visardist/pseuds/Visardist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Peggy goes joy riding for the first time in a car with power steering. Written for the Carter Century.</p>
            </blockquote>





	joyriding

**Author's Note:**

> When I originally received this prompt:
>
>> I had to go to the wikipedia article for help with this, whereupon I found this snippet:
>> 
>> Chrysler Corporation introduced the first commercially available passenger car power steering system on the 1951 Chrysler Imperial under the name “Hydraguide”.
>> 
>> Smart, anon. Very smart. However, because Howard’s a smartass and a rich one in the bargain, I’m putting this slightly earlier, late 1940s.

Her accent was beginning to bleed, less crisp, less sharp, rounding into the vowels that were New York. She was beginning to feel that she was shoring it up, talking with Timothy (never would get used to calling him Dum Dum), reinforcing to each other what home sounded like, for a given value of home. They worked for the good of the world, she reminded herself. Too soon to go home yet. Too soon.

The good of the world required toiling, long hours nightly, sifting through vast amounts of information, managing good men and women (definitely as many good women as men; she’d not stand for anything else). It was easier than in the war- no, she ought rephrase. Not so much easier, in terms of the workload, but the sense of urgency wasn’t as strong. They were no longer in danger of a bomb striking without warning. The more prosaic, smaller dangers remained, the pistol in the hands of an enemy, or state secrets, but those were on the scale that she could defeat by herself and with her team. The level of the human, rather than of the higher.

Lord, but it felt like ages since she’d been human. Since she’d gone dancing, or had any conversation much longer than a few minutes that didn’t concern work in some capacity, overt or covert. So obviously, if she was going to be invited out to something that Howard promised, “cross my heart”, had absolutely nothing to do with SHIELD, she’d accept.

"Christ, did ya finally figure out how to keep it in the  _air_? That why we’re here?” is what she hears, stepping into Howard’s garage. Timothy’s here, and Jim and Jacques, and Gabe must be too, because that’s his jacket she recognises on the bench. Howard groans, but he keeps stroking a prideful hand over the door of the shiny new convertible. It really is quite a stunning car.

"Still a few kinks I’m ironin’ out there. No, this’s better." He goes into a long spiel about its merits, walking them around it to better observe every inch of it, inside and out. Gabe returns somewhere in the middle, rolling his eyes; it’s not the first time he’s heard Howard brag, clearly. In fact, he’s mouthing along as Howard goes into the details of the new steering system.

She folds her arms, amused. How could they have expected anything else of him. “That’s all you’ve asked us out here for? Extolling your new purchase?”

The other men crack up at that, and Jim wags his finger. “You know how this goes, Howard. No point bragging without a demo.”

There’s an exaggerated sigh, and Howard fishes his keys out, jingling them loosely by way of holding the specific one in his hand. “I happen t’like the paintjob as it is now. Can’t you let it weather a little before you all take a turn?”

"The way you weather it, it’ll gather house dust before it does road dust," Peggy says briskly, taking the keys from him before he can react. She slips into the driver’s seat smoothly, adjusting it before looking round at them. "All right, gentlemen- who’s with me?"

Howard mutters something mutinous, while Jacques and Gabe reach the passenger seat at the same time, conferring briefly in French before Gabe sits down, grinning at her. “How about a jaunt down the river?” he suggests, mostly for the look on Howard’s face. Howard sputters, naturally.

"No- no! Not in traffic- just a lap or two round the house, how about that-"

"Hardly any distance at all," Peggy points out, "and you were praising the top speed moments ago. We need plenty of road to really appreciate that."

"We won’t go by the river, fine," Gabe chips in, "so how about the country roads? Scenic, and," he beams at Howard, projecting innocence for all he’s worth, "lots of untrimmed bushes and low-hanging branches close to the road." _  
_

Howard does his very, very best not to choke. Peggy takes that opportunity to start the car, while he’s still speechless enough not to stop them.

It handles like a  _dream_. She was grinning from the moment she sat down, but this stretches it until her cheeks hurt. A dream, admittedly, that leaves skidmarks across Howard’s lawn when she turns the steering wheel too hard, not quite used to how much less she has to compensate. They can distantly hear Howard’s howl of dismay as they exit the ornate gates.

Peggy asks, while they’re stopped, where she should go; Gabe isn’t familiar with the area, so, recklessly, they don’t navigate at all, taking turns and twists randomly. Even at the speed they’re going, the steering is smooth and unlike what Peggy’s used to. Maybe she’ll persuade Howard to upgrade her own car similarly.

Eventually they come out to a long open road, which isn’t as much fun to steer on, but really lets her open up the throttle. Gabe lets out a long whoop, and she can hear her own laughter spooling out behind them, as if anyone looking for them will be able to track them down by the echoing remains of their delight. When at last she pulls over, worried she’ll crash Howard’s beautiful car with the way she’s breathless with laughter, Gabe is leaning back, looking up at the blue May sky.

She tilts her head at him, consciously controlling her breathing until her ribs don’t ache so much, and looks up as well. An eagle soars up above them, wheeling away into the distance.

It’s the best she’s felt in months.


End file.
